Many ways lead to Henneth Annun
by JunoMagic
Summary: A series of drabbles, i.e. short pieces of prose with a length of 100 words according to MS Word each, written in honour of the Henneth Annun Story Archive.


**Disclaimer: **This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J. R. R. Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters that belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the private enjoyment of readers at FanFictionNet, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.

_In other words, though I do know the way to Henneth Annûn from almost every direction possible, I don't belong to Middle-earth, and alas, Middle-earth does not belong to me._

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**oooOooo**

_"Many ways lead to Henneth Annûn…"_

You may reach it travelling from Minas Tirith, eager to take up the fight. When you set out, you are strong: your gear is in good shape, your boots are sturdy, your spirits high. Nineteen miles to Osgiliath, then forty-five miles on the banks of the Anduin, walking between the rushing river and the whispering woods of Ithilien. When the fortress of Cair Andros sends its stony promise of safety across the rapids, you turn north-east.

Another eighteen miles and you reach the hidden bastion of battle against the Black Land.

You give your password.  
You are ready to fight.

**oooOooo**

You may reach it after weeks spent in South Ithilien, once called Moon-land and now overrun by Orcs and slit-eyed Southrons, who care naught for borderlines or treaties of old. Your throat is parched from the heat and your eyes burn from squinting over the glare of sunlight reflected by the dark flow of the river Poros, where you have tried to watch over Gondor's southernmost border. Your boots are dusty. The leather is thin from ranging over two hundred miles from the Haudh-in-Gwanûr to the hidden refuge of Henneth Annûn.

You give your password.  
And all you want is sleep.

**oooOooo**

You may reach it after a patrol of the beacon hills:  
After you beheld the holy height of Halifirien and walked the green glade of Calenhad. After you climbed the pillar of Minrimmon and held vigil on Erelas. After you stacked up the wood on Nardol and braved the spire of Eilenach. And after you endured the watchful silence of Amon Dîn.

You approach the refuge and your heart is heavy. Only when the hour is dark and the need dire, the beacons will burn. That day is not far now.

You speak the password and wearily enter Henneth Annûn.

**oooOooo**

You may reach it in the depth of night, returning from a secret mission.

On such a mission, you may have seen the decaying shadows of ancient valour in the Dead Marshes. You may have hidden in the shade of the slag-mounds within sight of the Morannon. You may have wandered the Noman-lands trying to hide from your own shadow. You may have crept towards Ithilien grateful even for the sheltering gloom of the Ephel Duath.

When you arrive, you whisper the password and look around with furtive glances, until you collapse gratefully in the soothing shadows of the waterfall.

**oooOooo**

_Many ways lead to Henneth Annûn._

The way from the West is the way from Minas Tirith, a safe road paved with confidence. The way from the South is long and hot, meandering mazily through the Moon-lands of South Ithilien. The way from the North-West is farther still, covering all the miles of the Great West Road between the Irensaga and the Anduin. Dark is the way reaching Henneth Annûn from the North-East, a way you will not speak of at night.

Yet all these ways lead to Henneth Annûn.  
You give the password, enter, and you are at home.

**oooOooo**

_Many ways lead to Henneth Annûn._

And many days you have spent travelling these ways, in shadows and light. But then comes the day without dawn, when all missions of reconnaissance and preparation are put to the test. Twelve miles, until the trail meets the Harad Road. Twelve miles, until you meet with the Host of the West. Seventy-eight miles of marching on the Harad Road in the deepening gloom of the Ephel Duath.

Then the gates of the Morannon open for you and you know that this time there will be no way back to Henneth Annûn for you.

**oooOooo**

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**ooo **The End **ooo**

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**Please feel free to leave a comment!**

_Anything at all:_ If you noticed a typo, if you don't like a characterization or description, if you thought a line especially funny, if there was anything you particularly enjoyed … I am really interested in what my readers think about my writing.

You can leave a public comment (signed or anonymous), send me a private message, visit my forums or mail me off-site: juno _underscore_ magic _at_ magic _dot_ ms

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this story.

Yours  
JunoMagic


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